


This is Home?

by iam_spock (FanficbyLee)



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), kelvin timeline - Fandom, star trek kelvin timeline
Genre: AOS, Angst, M/M, Vulcan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-18
Updated: 2016-07-18
Packaged: 2018-07-24 21:20:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7523572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanficbyLee/pseuds/iam_spock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mr. Scott has been working on creating the first holodeck, and Spock offers his opinion on Scott's work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This is Home?

A gust of hot air ruffled Spock’s normally immaculate bangs as he turned into the wind blowing off the red-shaded sands of Vulcan’s Forge. The expansive desert filled his vision as heat born mirages shimmered in the distance below the peak of Mount Seleya. His mouth was dry, and when the Vulcan licked his lips he could taste dust—the dust of home.

High overhead the unrelenting light of Vulcan’s sun beat down upon him and the scorched earth beneath his feet. Had he been able to perspire, he would have a damp stain running down his spine and along his collar like Mr. Scott who was fiddling with a PADD while Spock took in the sights, smells, and tastes of Vulcan.

“It is quite accurate, Mr. Scott,” he told the chief engineer. Spock tilted his head slightly, hoping to catch the sound of a wild sehlat or le-matya nearby, or even the whispering rush of the wind itself but there was none. “However, the Forge, while a deserted place was not as quiet. You will need to do some research on the wildlife and other natural sounds of the desert itself. There were places where you could hear the wind whistle through ravines and on very still nights, you could hear Shi-kahr in the distance.”

There were other sounds Spock remembered. The rumbling of I-Chaya’s snoring when they’d creep to the edge of the desert to watch the stars in the velvet of the night sky, or the tinkling of the wind chimes that his mother insisted on hanging around the family estate.

Sarek would tease her about making music with the wind, but Spock didn’t mind. He liked the sound, and Amanda said it reminded her of water—something she was unlikely to hear on Vulcan. He thought better than to mention those to Scott. Unsure that he could keep the emotion from his voice if he shared stories of his mother with the man.

If Jim or McCoy were with him, it would be different. He let them see behind the stoic Vulcan mask. Although he suspected they’d bee able to see behind the façade whether he wanted them to or not.

“Once you have the finer details in place, it should be a…” he wasn’t sure what to say about the holographic program Scott had written to give the refugees from Vulcan a taste of the home they had lost. “Comfort.”

“I know, Mr. Spock,” the Scotsman said, with a sad smile on his face as he turned toward Spock. “’Tis much easier with Earth. I can pull bits and pieces, this an’ that out of the Federation database. But what we have on Vulcan…it isn’t enough. I wanted it to be perfect.”

“Your efforts will be appreciated.” If not by Spock himself. He hadn’t stepped foot on Vulcan for years before she was gone. Before Amanda died. His world. His people. He knew Scott meant well, but the hologram was painful for him. It was a firm reminder of life he’d left behind and now missed horribly and always would.

“Do you think you can spare the time to help me with what’s missin’?”

“I will make myself available to you.” If only to help the others who might find solace in the program. “I may have some recordings in my belongings that might fill in the gaps. Fortunately, they were electronically stored and not physical as my apartment was destroyed because of Khan.”

***

It was dark in his quarters. A single flame in a meditation lamp lit cast flickering shadows on the walls. Spock tried to look into the flame to take his mind from illusions and memories, to focus on the here and now, on the things in his life that mattered most. But it was difficult. Scott’s work had ripped a bandage from an old wound that Spock had pretended was healed.

McCoy would shake his head at him, of that he had no doubt. “You can’t ignore an injury to make it go away or heal itself, Spock. You’ve got to get it treated, or it’ll get infected—physical, mental, or god forbid emotional—you’ve got to deal with it.”

Spock let out a ragged sigh. His breath making the flame dance before coming to rest once more. Getting up, he snuffed out the flame and ordered the computer to turn the lights on at 30% their usual brightness. He hung his meditation robe in his closet and tugged on his off-duty blacks although for a moment, his fingers brushed over his blue tunic as he considered going to the labs or the bridge to fill his mind with duty instead of memories.

“But that would be avoidance,” he surmised and turned to the communications panel on his desk. “Captain, if you are available, could you and Dr. McCoy, please come to my quarters.”

“Sure thing, Spock,” Jim said in return. “Be there in a few minutes. I’ll see what Bones is up to.”

“Thank you.” _I need you. I need you both._


End file.
